Survivor: Airplane Potty

Part of the joy of holiday travel is the knowledge that, at some point, your carefully-orchestrated plans will unravel like a cheap sweater, and you’ll have to improvise. It happened to us in August
on a flight to see J’s family on the East coast. Isaac was newly potty-trained and we were feeling pretty proud of ourselves. We got onto the plane without incident and had been flying for about an hour when it dawned on us that at some point in the next four hours, he was going to have to use the airplane lavatory.

As neurotypical adults, it’s easy to forget how overwhelming even the most seemingly ordinary experience can be. Without even noticing it, we screen out so much sensory input; the roar of the jet engines, the fluorescent lights, the feeling of movement and instability, the sharp, unfamiliar smells. But for a sensitive 4 ½ year old, an airplane lavatory can be terrifying and overwhelming.

Finally, J. and I decided we could procrastinate no longer: it was time. We got up, Isaac took my hand and we made our way to the back of the plane. As we neared the lavatory, I oh-so-casually mentioned that we were going to try the potty.
“No potty! No potty!! I don’t want to go to the potty!” he cried.

Three rows of heads of varying sizes swiveled around to look at us.

“Well, sweetie,” I countered in what I hoped was an authoritative yet reasonable voice, “don’t you have to go pee-pee?”

“Noooooooo! No pee-pee!”

We negotiated for a while, and then I tried to pick him up. He dropped to the floor like a seasoned antiwar protestor. I tried again, and he screamed and grabbed the door jambs. A flight attendant asked nervously if I needed help. “No thanks,” I answered, imagining being escorted off the plane in leg irons. “He’s just a-f-r-a-i-d of the n-o-i-s-e.” “Yeah,” he smiled. “A lot of the little guys are.” Finally I got him inside and slid the door shut.

“I want the door open!” The roar and the movement were too much. Isaac clapped his hands over his ears, sobbing, while I, uh, helped him with the rest, the door open for all to see. We got his hands washed, and skulked back to our seats. On the return flight, we tried again, with no success. We ended up slipping a pull-up on him a few hours in, thinking that this time we’d just have to deal with any lingering consequences.

Next week, we’ll be taking our first flight since that trip. Our plan, should we decide to accept it, is to start now with a social story to try to prepare him. We’ll see how it goes, and, if we have to, we’ll move on to plan “B.” Cross your fingers.

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Oh Susan, I can relate so well to this, having travelled cross-country with my own sensitive little guy countless times. And, well, yes, we used a pull up for many of those trips. Because you do what you have to do.

Adelia

I travel a lot cross-continent with my boys. I used a pull up when my now 5 year old was 3, until he worked up the courage to try the lavatory (those things ARE crazy noisy). I didn’t want to create a potty/control issue where one didn’t exist. On one (miraculous) flight, he had the pull up on but decided to give the lavatory a try. He’s been fine since. Your little guy will get the hang of it too eventually. Happy flying!

2 days before we got on a plane with our then 3 year old daughter Bayleigh, she decided that she was a big girl and didn’t want to wear pull-ups anymore and refused to wear one. We flew out at night and we were able to get her in a pullup because she was sleeping. The flight home was a nightmare. Prior to boarding, I fixed a cup of water for Bayleigh to drink during take off and told my husband not to let her drink the water and why. Well, while I was off getting snacks, my husband proceded to let Bayleigh drink the whole cup because she was thirsty, without telling me. I took Bayleigh to the bathroom before boarding, but as soon as the fasten seat belt light came on, she started screaming that she had to go pee-pee. My husband then confessed that he let Bayleigh drink the water. Bayleigh screamed to go potty until after takeoff and the light went off, by which time, she had an accident. I was ready to jump out of the emergency exit. If my husband had listened to me about the water, none of this would have happened because the entire week we were gone, Bayleigh didn’t have a single accident until the plane ride home. This was in 2004 and we haven’t flown since.